


Comfort for a Beast

by RottieBones



Category: LEGO Nexo Knights
Genre: Actually good gay content, M/M, takes place between season 1 and 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-02 06:54:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10211999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RottieBones/pseuds/RottieBones
Summary: Atlas Allister, a (technically) 324 year old creature of a human-animal hybrid species called Shiirostyx has been summoned from a book he'd been wrongfully sealed in for 300 years of his life. Of course, Jestro had only planned on him becoming another powerful addition to his evil army, but starts to realize otherwise when he begins to get warm feelings for this emotionally damaged man. Likewise, Atlas begins to feel the same, but refuses to say anything, assuming his crush is one-sided.Who doesn't love a good wholesome slow burn?





	

                    Today was a raid day, rather, post-raid now, as they’d already been to the village and burned it to the ground. Jestro sat perched in the chaotic little throne atop his patchworked vehicle, clutching his staff in a vice-like grip as the vehicle rattled on over uneven terrain. The adrenaline of the day’s events was simultaneously crashing down upon him in a very delayed response, and starting to ebb away. His anxiety was at a high point and he felt both tense and ready to burst, but yet at the same time he’d never felt more exhausted. The warmth of the afternoon only helped him sink into a tired state, as the realization of boredom started to settle in. His gaze flickered between The Book and Bookkeeper, as they gazed at the blurred countryside that passed them by. Sunlight that shafted between passing trees casted brief slots of warm gold light across the stone flooring of the vehicle and painted his face in speckles and stripes of warmth. He exhaled softly, making sure to not catch the attention of the sentient book that rested in the arms of the bedraggled lava henchman.

                    Then his gaze wandered over to another man, or well, Shiirostyx, technically. The Shiiro’s thin frame slumped against the side of the affectionately dubbed Evil Mobile, resting in a sitting position. He wasn’t moving; spare for a slight twitch in his large white ears now and then. Maybe he was asleep, somehow. The man was Atlas Allister, a Shiirostyx from centuries before Jestro’s existence. The jester rolled the name through his mind subconsciously, staring at the back of Atlas’s head. The Shiirostyx had soft off-white hair and fur, just slightly a creamy color that would pass for white, not yellow enough to be blonde. Nested in his cloud-like hair were two small coal black horns, resembling a Mountain Goat’s in shape. Jestro closed his eyes for a minute, envisioning Atlas’s face, that wasn’t turned towards him at the moment. Snow white skin that flaunted soft features of a Korean man, adorned with black tiger-like striped markings, and the prettiest blue eyes he’d ever seen. They reminded him of husky eyes. Not to mention those cute little tufts of fur that adorned both sides of his jaw.

 

                    Okay, so maybe he had just a little, tiny, slightly huge crush on Atlas.

                    Maybe.

 

                    The sudden jerk of the vehicle going over a bump in the road cruelly tore him from his hazy daydreaming. Even more so, it seemed to rip Atlas from his calm state, as he jolted upright suddenly, back stiff and tense like a straight line. Jestro would have asked if he was okay but didn’t want to catch the attention of The Book. Instead, he refrained from opening his mouth and kept a wary eye on Atlas’s posture, taking note of how the Shiiro’s dark black claws dug into the side of the Evil Mobile with the strength enough to make the soft pink in his knuckles fade to a white that matched his skin. That couldn’t mean anything good, but Jestro once more held his tongue and instead watched Atlas. On the off chance that Atlas was fine, he didn’t want to take the chance that he’d annoy him by asking pushy questions. He assumed Atlas probably wouldn’t want a nosy jester poking into his personal affairs. Still, he kept a worried gaze on the Shiiro’s back.

And so they sat, in an uncomfortably comfortable silence.

 

 

 

                    The Book finally broke the silence after a long while. The first hints of a sunset had begun to bleed forth into the sky and Jestro had just begun to doze off when the vehicle stopped abruptly. Jestro sat to attention and gazed at The Book, who now stared impatiently back at him.

                    “We’re here.” Came his abrupt announcement.  
“Uh...We’re where?” Jestro replied meekly, slowly becoming more alert to his surroundings. He received no answer from The Book, who’d already turned and was making his exit, courtesy of the Bookkeeper.

                    They were at the mouth of a ravine. It was rather small, too small for the Evil Mobile to fit through, at least. Big enough for them to fit in though, he assumed. The Book probably meant for them to spend the night here. Jestro swallowed forcefully and stared into the ravine. It was dark, and it looked cold. He subconsciously shivered and clutched his staff tightly. His gaze wandered to Atlas, who had caught his attention when he stood suddenly. He stretched, his stubby white tail curling just a little as he reached for the air above him, and then trotted tamely after The Book, watching with curious, half lidded eyes. Now that Jestro could properly see his face he knew something had been wrong. The Shiiro’s cheeks and rims of his eyes were an uncomfortable shade of pink, nearing red. He’d been crying, Jestro of all people could recognize that. How he managed to stay unnoticably silent was a mystery in itself.

                    “...Is there anything you need of me, sir?” Atlas addressed The Book. Jestro felt an emotion near disgust at the wavering tone of uncertainty in Atlas’s voice when he spoke to The Book. There was a scoff from below.  
“Make yourself useful and get us a fire going.” Was the venomous reply.  
“Yessir, right away.” Atlas glanced back at Jestro, and for a moment the Jester swore he saw a pleading expression in the Shiiro’s eyes. Jestro’s heart lurched just a little in his chest.

                    Work on a fire. Yes, Atlas could do that, he was capable of an easy task such as that. He tried to reassure himself this, repeating the positive words in his head as he gathered kindling for the fire, levitating larger assortments of wood with his now-returning magic. The raid had worn him out, pushing his limits and exhausting his magical abilities to the point of him being unable to use much magic for the rest of the day. Only now was some of his strength returning, and yet every time he stumbled over his paws his magic threatened to give out and drop everything he carried. Still, he managed to arrange a makeshift fire pit out of random stones and rocks and start a fire with what remained of his magic.The effort once again proved straining, because soon after he had gotten flames to spring forth from the fire pit, the fire magic within his hands fizzled out in a disappointing display of smoke and embers. He stared at the burning wood with a crestfallen expression. His fire magic was beautiful, bright blue flames that seemed to sparkle with glittery light and bathe everything around it in soft blue. He would have been proud of it, had he not been in such a depressed mood. However, they were warm, and if they tended to the fire, it would last them a while. Atlas crouched near the fire, sinking into a tight sitting position and staring at the flames in bitter silence. He knew that he’d be the only one tending the flames all night.

 

 

                    Soon after, The Book and Bookkeeper retired, settling in on the opposite side of the fire, keeping a safe distance from the flames for the safety of The Book’s ‘sensitive leather’, as he claimed. Atlas curled what was left of his tail tightly around his thigh, and squeezed his eyes shut. Jestro, who’d been watching them quietly, saw this as an opportunity to speak to Atlas, finally. He inched closer to the Shiiro, until they were both illuminated by the soft blue flames, and then sat down next to Atlas. He’d been trying to ignore the cold that seeped through his clothes, and now the fire was a welcomed sensation that washed over his body. He breathed a content sigh and peered at Atlas with a new expression of concern.

                    “So, uh... “ Jestro trailed off just as suddenly as he’d spoken up. What was he supposed to say? What would offer Atlas a semblance of comfort? The Shiiro’s ears perked and swiveled a little to focus on Jestro’s voice, but Atlas made no effort to move the rest of his body. He was listening, at least.

                    So it was silent for a little longer, until Jestro once more worked up the nerve to speak.

                    “A...Are you okay? I don’t mean tah’ intrude or nothin’ but… You just didn’t look so good earlier. I-I mean, your face looks fine, it always does, but you seemed upset!” Smooth recovery.

                    Atlas huffed into his sleeves and batted his eyelashes subconsciously. He adored Jestro’s kindness to a beast like him. He surely didn’t deserve the attention, yet here Jestro was, at least seeming to care about him. The memories of earlier almost washed away with his thoughts, but unfortunately clung to his mind like a constant storm cloud over his head.

                    “It’s nothing, sir. Don’t worry. I’m flattered that you took time to ask about it, though.” Atlas replied quietly, so that Jestro almost had to strain to hear him. The reply stung a little, for some reason. Did Atlas not trust him enough to talk about it, or was it just too personal? Furthermore, Atlas referring to him as sir made him uncomfortable. Jestro chewed on his lip anxiously.

                    “Atlas, you _really_ don’t need to call me sir. Jestro is more than fine… A-and I-” He cut himself off and lowered his voice, realizing that he might wake the now-sleeping Book of Monsters.  
“I want you to know that I’m uh… I’m here for you, y’know? Look… I’m not really as big an’ scary as I come off tah’ be sometimes. Heck, I’m not even that good at… anything, really. B-But that’s besides the point- Atti- _Atlas,_ I’m just worried about you, okay? A-And if ya need to talk about something that’s bothering you I’d rather you tell me instead of… bottling things up… I know myself that doing that never ends well.” He was rambling, but he was trying to stay sincere. He wanted to make sure Atlas at least felt safe with him. There was a weird tight feeling in his stomach and his chest felt like it was full of butterflies as he gazed at the Shiiro next to him, who watched him silently from the corner of his eye.

 

 

                    Atlas closed his eyes and huffed. Something in Jestro’s stomach dropped and made it suddenly feel heavy. But the huff was followed by a shudder of Atlas’s shoulders, and then very quiet, muffled sniffing. Oh. Atlas was crying. Panic had begun to set in and Jestro bit down on his lip again. Had he done something wrong?! He inched closer to Atlas nervously and gently placed a hand on Atlas’s back. It was the best thing he could think of doing as this man sobbed softly into his sleeves. Some time passed, and the only thing to bear witness to the soft cries was the two of them. Atlas hiccuped softly and lifted his head finally, gazing at Jestro with reddened eyes.

 

                    “Nobody… Nobody puts the amount of effort you do into caring about something like me. I-I apologize for my outburst. I was overcome with emotion.” He sniffled softly, wiping tears from his eyes.

                    “Don’t apologize! It’s okay to cry, Atlas… Just, don’t let The Book hear me say that, ahah.” He nervously attempted to lighten Atlas’s mood with humor, but it was a rather dark joke in reality. Atlas realized that and peeked at Jestro from over his sleeve with a worried expression.

                    “Atlas, what’s bothering you? I-If it’s okay to ask... “ Jestro once again asked, this time in a softer voice.

                    Atlas averted his eyes and twitched his ears. He was nervous, it was obvious, but against his instinct to stay quiet and cold, Atlas spoke up. He was tired of walling off his emotions and scaring off others with his distant attitude.

                    “It’s… Nightmares, or something like that, I suppose. Memories here and there… Mostly of… Callisto, and stuff before I... “ He trailed off. Did he die? Did getting mortally impaled and then revived enough to be sealed in a book for 300 years count as a death? Jestro, though slightly delayed, picked up on Atlas’s hesitance to continue the sentence and risked a question.  
“Atlas, what was Callisto like? What was it like back then?”

                    “Callisto was amazing- he was so intelligent, and powerful, and i-impressive, and he… He… He was horrible. He stopped…. He stopped speaking to me for weeks at a time when I turned 12. He locked himself in his room. A-and then he… He got so… He got so awful…” Jestro flinched a little when Atlas’s voice wavered and broke.

                    “Atlas, you can stop if this is too painful for you.” He interjected, rubbing the hand that still remained on Atlas’s back in circles. Atlas nodded and sniffled. He was thankful that Jestro hadn’t prodded for more information. Jestro however, was already quite alarmed at the little information Atlas had given him. Slowly, shakily, he leaned in close and pulled Atlas into a gentle hug. Atlas inhaled softly and froze.

                    “What is this?” He asked timidly, not sure what to do with his hands. Jestro peeked up at him with a worried expression. Did Atlas not know what a hug was? Or was he uncomfortable? Was Atlas unfamiliar with physical affection?

 

                    “A… hug? Y’know, when you wrap your arms around someone to comfort them.” Jestro explained quietly. Atlas seemed to relax a little, and slowly imitated Jestro’s pose, wrapping his arms around the jester’s body. Jestro could feel Atlas’s claws just barely press against his back, and realized he was trying to be careful not to hurt him. Claws must be a bit of a pain sometimes, he realized, before internally snorting at his own pun.

                    Despite being tall and thin, Atlas was soft to Jestro. His robes were well made, he realized, as he felt the smooth fabric against his face. The deep blue robe felt like it was made of a soft silk. He hoped he wasn’t getting any makeup on it. Atlas worried the same, but he was too busy dealing with a new, foreign emotion to care about his clothing for very long. A warmth that wasn’t caused by the fire was spreading from within his chest, seeping into his stomach and up into his cheeks. His stomach felt tight, then relaxed and heavy as he took in the feeling of Jestro hugging him. Jestro had been feeling the same way, though not as much as Atlas was experiencing at the moment. The jester peeked up at Atlas, wondering if he’d been hugging for too long. Atlas didn’t seem to mind, and there was a peculiar expression on his face, a mixture of surprise and curiosity that looked adorable on him. Jestro squeezed his eyes shut at the thought.

                    Atlas let his shoulders sink as he finally relaxed in full. His eyes regained their more familiar half-lidded expression. He stared silently at the fire, his arms still wrapped around Jestro. They sat in a comfortable silence for a while.

 

 

                    “S- _Jestro,_ I’ve meant to ask you about uh-” He cut himself off suddenly, squinting at Jestro. He prodded him gently with a claw, confirming his suspicions. Jestro had fallen asleep, leaving Atlas to continue holding him. Of course, Atlas could let go, or even go as far as to get up and move himself. But Atlas didn’t do that, instead he did quite the opposite. He leaned back a little and let Jestro rest on him, propping himself up against a large stone. This might hurt his back in the morning, he realized, but for now it didn’t matter. He also remembered that he should probably be tending the fire. That was a problem for future Atlas, he decided, before closing his eyes and attempting to get a more restful sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm finally stickin this out in public for others to read, if it's good enough and I get positive feedback I'll probably write more?? 
> 
> Hell, if I get negative feedback i'll just write more out of spite so either way there's gonna be more of this if I feel up to it


End file.
